


Never forget, Never forgive

by drifting_quill



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Friendship, I don't know if this actually happened, I needed to get this plot bunny out, One Shot, probably not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 16:03:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14405613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drifting_quill/pseuds/drifting_quill
Summary: Gimli was but a dwarfling when Thorin Oakenshield and his company set out for Erebor, but he remembers it vividly. He often thinks of his friends, the heirs of Durin, who were lost on that quest, and he struggles with where to place blame.





	Never forget, Never forgive

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything... unfortunately

Gimli was young when it happened, for dwarves, anyway; but he never forgot them. A bright smile that shone and warmed hearts like the sun, and blue eyes that held mirth and knowing far beyond that that should have been held by one so young. He never forgot his dear cousins, his dear friends.

 

Gimli often looked back to bright mornings in the Blue Mountains, running with Fill and Kill along rock crevices and exploring every nook and cranny. He remembered Thorin as well. He was a commanding figure, with wavy black hair, in later years adorned with strands of silver. He supported the dwarves of Ered Luin when their hopes were low and faith lost. He wore a fur coat, Gimli remembers, and had a deep, penetrating voice. 

 

Gimli never forgot when they received word in the Blue Mountains of the battle that had commenced, and the results. There was great joy in the dwarves that day, knowing that the mountain was theirs again, and that they could finally return home. But that joy was quickly taken by other news. The king was dead, as were his heirs. Gimli would never forget Dis’ screams, and the tears that ran down her face, so uncharacteristic of a dwarf. She had collapsed to her knees, hands wrung in her thick hair, as she screamed pitifully for her sons; for her brother.

 

But Dis’ grief was but a fragment of the puzzle that day. Gimli felt great loss and grief, and such emotions were new to him. They took a part of his innocence. The only happy thought he could think was 'thank Eru my father lives'. But Gimli went on with his life without his dear friends, who’s lives were taken so early on a journey that Gimli himself had begged to be a part of. Thorin took them with him, and Gimli, though he felt such guilt for the thought, couldn’t help but blame Thorin. 

 

He berated himself for it constantly, but he could only see Fili and Kili waving to him one last time as they followed the other dwarves, led by Thorin Oakenshield, to their doom.

 

No, Gimli never forgot his first friends. He never forgot training with them, and he never forgot coming of age without them. And even now, as he rides into battle at the side of an elf, he never forgave Thorin for taking his dear friends, though now he put that anger aside so he could focus on the real enemy. He never forgot who really took his cousins, and he never forgave them.  
This was the day the orcs of Arda would scream in woe and pain, for the wrath of a dwarf for his lost blood-brothers would result in nothing less. 


End file.
